


An Unstoppable Force meets an Immovable Object

by wrunic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: But it's still pretty moderate, Fluff and Humor, I spend my entire life on this website and I still don't know how to tag, M/M, Phichit is trying, They're all trying, This ended up angstier than I intended whoops, Who even knows at this point I just hope you enjoy it, Yuuri is a dancer au, Yuuri why are you like this, Zumba AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:06:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrunic/pseuds/wrunic
Summary: An unstoppable force in the form of Phichit must fight against the immovable object that is Yuuri's inability to deal with his feelings. Also Zumba.





	An Unstoppable Force meets an Immovable Object

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This fandom has grabbed me and dragged me into hell, (over a year late, but what can ya do) so here we are. This fic is he result of me going to a Zumba class with my mom and my brain taking it WAY TOO FAR. So yeah. Hopefully it isn't too terrible, and if you do somehiw end up reading this, I hope you enjoy it!

The situation, like most things in Yuuri's life nowadays, was entirely Phichit’s fault.

It all started on a perfectly average Saturday night. Yuuri was lying on the couch, doing jack shit because he'd had a long day and he deserved it.  
It was going great until Phichit, in all his grinning, sunshiny glory, walked into their shared living room and declared: 

“We're doing a class!”

Yuuri gave a world-weary groan.

“Why? Celestino gave us the weekend off.”

“Exactly, so I'm bored. Besides, it's not like you're busy or anything. You haven't moved in three hours.”

Well, he had a point.

“Fine.”

“Yay!” Phichit grinned at him. “You're the best friend ever!”

Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. And don't you dare forget it.”

***

“YOU SIGNED US UP FOR A POLE DANCING CLASS?”

Phichit shrugged, like this was just something that normal people did.

“Yeah! It's a good ab workout, and apparently it's a lot of fun!” He paused and gave Yuuri a knowing look. “But of course, you already know that…”

Yuuri turned bright red.

“I told you never to mention that!” He hissed, looking around to make sure no one had heard.

“Yuuri.” Phichit said, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him so they were facing each other. “That is literally the only cool thing you've ever done. It's my duty as your best friend to remind you about it as often as possible.”  
“I hate you.”

“No you don't!” Phichit singsonged, skipping into the studio.

Yuuri followed him in, grumbling under his breath.

The first thing he noticed was the considerable lack of poles. The second thing he noticed was the only non-Phichit person in the room. Yuuri assumed he was the instructor. He had longish silver hair, but he couldn't have been much older than Yuuri. He also wasn't wearing a shirt, and Yuuri was trying to decide whether to thank the universe or fling himself out the nearest window.   
Phichit, of course, noticed that Yuuri seemed to have lost the ability to function, so he went up to the Human Embodiment of Perfection and introduced himself.

“Hi! I'm Phichit, and that's Yuuri.” He pointed at Yuuri, who quickly adjusted his glasses and gave a shy wave, like he hadn't been openly gaping at the guy two seconds earlier. “Is this pole dancing 101?”

The guy smiled, and Yuuri actually felt himself become gayer.

“No, sorry. You want the next room over. This is Zumba.”

He had a light Russian accent, and Yuuri was now completely convinced that the universe was trying to kill him.

“Oh, my mistake!” Phichit said, flashing his trademark dazzling smile. “I guess this is just Yuuri's class then.”

Scratch that. The universe wasn't trying to kill him. Phichit was.

“Sorry for any inconvenience!” Phichit called as he headed to the door, winking at Yuuri on his way out. Yuuri had never felt so betrayed. He stared out the door for a few seconds, coming to terms with the fact that he had to find a new best friend.   
When he turned back around, he was almost nose to nose with the instructor. He let out a surprised squeak and leaped backwards.   
Unfortunately {cross out) Thankfully, the instructor was now wearing a shirt, so at least it wasn't as bad as it could have been. 

“Sorry for scaring you.” He laughed, holding out a hand to shake. “I'm Viktor.”

Yuuri reluctantly took Viktor’s hand, cursing the fact that his were probably disgustingly clammy.

 

“I'm Yuuri.” 

Wait fuck. Phichit had already introduced him and now he sounded like an idiot oh god-

“Nice to meet you, Yuuri.” Viktor said, and the way he drew out the “u’s” made Yuuri forget about his slip-up, and basically everything else in the world except Viktor. “So, what brings you to Zumba?”

“Someone’s ongoing plot to embarrass me to death, apparently” is what he wanted to say. He went with the less whiny but still honest answer.

“Phichit.”

“Ah,” Viktor smiled knowingly, “boyfriend dragging you to stuff?”

Yuuri felt his face go hot.

“He's not my boyfriend! He's my best friend! And my roommate! Platonically! I'm very single!”

He buried his face in his hands. This was one of the worst conversations he'd ever participated in, including the “birds and the bees” talk with his parents where he came out to them just so they'd stop talking.

Fortunately, Viktor seemed amused, rather than weirded out.

“Ah, my mistake. Still, he seems hard to say no to.”

Yuuri emerged from his cocoon of shame and shook his head fondly.

“You don't know the half of it.” He paused for a second, and when Viktor didn't say anything, launched into his next question. “So when does this start?” 

Viktor glanced at the clock on the wall.

“You're quite early. My next class isn't for another twenty minutes.”

Yuuri almost choked on air. Twenty minutes?! Alone. With Viktor. He really was going to die.

***

Yuuri had been dancing for as long as he could remember. With Minako back in Hasetsu, and now here in Detroit with Celestino. 

He did everything he could, from contemporary to hip-hop to interpretive, but his true love would always be ballet.

This year, for the first time in his life, Yuuri was actually starring in something professional, having scored the male lead in a production of Swan Lake.

So with a background like that, being put in a beginner's Zumba class with a bunch of forty year old soccer moms was kind of insulting, especially since they were all better than he was. By the end of the class, he was seriously questioning his life choices.

He was at the water fountain after class, exhausted, embarrassed and sweating like a pig, but politely made conversation with the women in line with him.

“Viktor's quite the looker, isn't he?” One of the ladies, Maiko, said, elbowing Yuuri playfully while he took a drink from the fountain. He nearly choked again, standing up and wiping his mouth.

“What?!”

She laughed.

“Come on, don't be coy. We all noticed.”

Another woman, Rhonda, nodded in agreement.

“He's the only reason I still come to class.”

There were murmurs of assent from pretty much everyone.

“And I don't think a young man fit as you would be here for a workout without a little… extra motivation.” She said with a smirk. “Especially not a professional dancer.”

Yuuri stared at her for a second, trying to figure out how the hell she'd known.

“You teach my youngest son's ballet class sometimes…” she prompted. Yuuri continued to stare blankly at her. “Blonde hair with a red streak, easily excited?”

Yuuri gasped, suddenly recognizing the woman.

“Mrs. Kenjirou?

She laughed.

“Yes! Minami loves you, just so you know. He wants to be you when he's older.”

Yuuri felt himself growing flustered. “Well, I'm not sure about that…”

“I certainly know! He's told me more times than I can count! All he asked for for his birthday was tickets to Swan Lake, and it takes an act of God to make him leave the dance studio.” She checked her watch. “Speaking of which, I've got to go pick him up from class. Good luck, Yuuri.” She winked at him and walked off, accompanied by every other one of his classmates, leaving Yuuri to go back and get his bag alone. 

He had gotten his bag and had almost made it to the door when he was greeted by Viktor at the other end of the room.

“You're still here? Haven't you had enough of me yet?” He joked, striding across the room with a grin on his face.

“I was, uh, just leaving.” Yuuri said, gesturing at the door.

Viktor pouted. Actually fucking pouted. Bottom lip sticking out and everything. “Awe, that's a shame, I really like talking to you, Yuuri. See you next week?”

Yuuri's mouth spoke without consulting his brain first. “Definitely!” Then, he ran out the door before he could embarrass himself further.

Phichit was waiting for him in the lobby, looking awfully pleased with himself.

“So how was class?” He asked innocently, falling into step behind Yuuri and valiantly ignoring the fact that Yuuri was pretending to be mad at him.

“You are the worst friend ever.”

Phichit pouted. “Awe, come on. I set you up for a conversation with the hottest guy ever, and I'm at fault?”

“I wasn't prepared Phichit! I re-introduced myself! TWICE!”

Phichit laughed, the traitor. “Of course you did. But otherwise, how'd it go?”

Yuuri was loath to admit it, but after recovering from his awkwardness, the twenty minute conversation with Viktor was one of the nicest he'd had in a long time, even if he was internally dying through most of it. He didn't say any of that though, he didn't have to. Phichit just knew. 

“Dibs on best man.”

Yuuri blushed and sputtered for a few seconds, but he couldn't say he necessarily objected to the idea. Viktor had been really sweet during their talk, and funny too. And God, he could dance. Yuuri was so screwed.

“So how was your class?” Yuuri asked, desperate to steer the conversation away from him.

Phichit lit up.

“It was actually super fun! He instructor's called Chris, and-” he paused and glared at Yuuri. “Uh-uh. You're not getting away that easily. Now tell me, when are you seeing this guy again?”

“Uh, at class next week?” Yuuri said awkwardly.

Apparently, that wasn't the answer Phichit was looking for, because he sighed profoundly. “Did you at least get his number?”

“No?”

Phichit full on facepalmed. “You're hopeless.” He pulled out his phone and started typing something. “Luckily, you have me.” 

They arrived at their car right at that point, and Yuuri climbed into the driver's side while Phichit continued his text conversation in the passenger seat. Yuuri tried peeking over, but Phichit was sneaky and always hid his phone just in time. 

“What are you doing?”

“All in good time, my friend. All in good time.” Phichit said cryptically, an evil grin on his face. 

Yuuri only found out later, but the conversation Phichit was having looked something like this:

Phichit: Hey Chris, it's Phichit!

Chris: Oh hey what's up?

Phichit: You know that friend I told you about? 

Chris: Thirsty Zumba guy? The one Viktor won't shut up about?

Phichit: That's the one!

Chris: What about him?

Phichit: Well he's really shy and kind of oblivious, so could you talk to Viktor for him?

Chris: You want my help getting them together?

Phichit: Yes please

Chris: Consider it done. I'll keep you posted

Phichit: You're the best! (*^3^)/~☆

Chris: I know ;)

***

It started out small. Five weeks had now gone by, and Yuuri was content showing up early to Saturday classes and chatting with Viktor for a while, then ranting to Phichit about how great he was on the way home. Phichit, being the good, supportive best friend he was, listened to every word, and plotted how best to finally get these two on a date.

Then Viktor started… showing up. In places that he had no logical reason to be, like in the dairy aisle of Yuuri's usual grocery store.

***

All he wanted was cheese. Yuuri was looking through the (frankly ludicrous) variety of cheese options, an American thing that would never stop being weird to Yuuri, when he heard a familiar voice behind him, that seemed like it was talking on the phone with someone. 

“I'm serious Chris, it isn't here! Yeah- fine, I'll keep looking, but- Yeah, yeah I know. Bye.”

Yuuri told himself he was hearing things. This was not something that happened in real life. There was just no way. Then there was a surprised gasp behind him.

“Yuuri?”

He turned around slowly, his denial bubble shattered.

“Hi Viktor.”

Viktor ran up and hugged him, something Yuuri still wasn't used to.

(He'd found out the hard way that that Viktor was a very touchy person, when he'd corrected Yuuri's technique during the second class by grabbing his hips and directing his movements. Yuuri had nearly died, and Maiko and the other ladies teased him about it to no end.)

He let out a surprised “Eep!” and froze up for a few seconds, before subtly disentangling himself from the embrace.

“What are you doing here?”

It was a reasonable question, given that Chris and Viktor lived on the other end of town, and, to Yuuri's knowledge, Viktor had never been to this store in his life.

“Ah, Chris wanted a specific kind of pasta for dinner tonight, and this is apparently the closest place that sells it, so…” he trailed off. “I, uh, haven't had much luck though. You wouldn't happen to know where the pasta aisle is, would you? Chris usually handles groceries so I'm a bit lost, and- I'm rambling, sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair, giving Yuuri an embarrassed smile. 

Yuuri was, somehow, more endeared by this than anything else. Viktor needing his help with something made him seem more real somehow, not to mention that he was adorable when he was embarrassed. Yuuri was sure that Phichit was behind this, somehow, and that he'd want him to take full advantage, so Yuuri decided that, just this once, he'd do something risky.

He took a deep breath. “Why don't you and Chris come for dinner with me and Phichit? It'll save you a trip to the pasta ailse. It's pretty terrifying.” He smiled, doing everything he could to conceal his internal panic.

Viktor was so relieved he hugged Yuuri again.

“Thank you so much! Is seven okay?

“Yeah, seven's perfect!” Yuuri’s mouth said, his brain already occupied scrambling to figure out what the hell he was going to do for supper, because he really didn't think you were supposed to invite people over and serve them leftover week-old Mexican takeout.

“Okay, see you then!” Viktor grinned at him and hugged him one last time before running off, leaving Yuuri dazed and alone in front of the cheese fridge, trying to figure out his next move.

All of five seconds later, Yuuri still hadn't budged, and Viktor was back, if a little breathless.

“I just realized,” he said between breaths, “that I don't have your number.” He produced his phone with a flourish and offered it to Yuuri. He was about to say that they could just have Phichit text Chris the address, but then he heard Phichit's voice in his head yelling at him to not be an idiot, so he took the phone and typed his number in, and if it took him three tries because his hands were shaking so much, well, nobody needed to know.

***

It was now an hour and a half later, am Yuuri was freaking out.

Their last three meal attempts were layed out on the counter in front of them; a blackened pan of what had once been salmon, a pot of soup that had fused to the pot and couldn't be removed, even after being left to soak for nearly forty-five minutes, and a batch of ravioli that had expanded so much while cooking that it had knocked the lid off its pot and subsequently been abandoned out of fear of it gaining sentience.

“We're doomed!” Yuuri moaned, wrenching his hands through his hair in distress.

Phichit was silent, staring at the food-pocalypse before them. There was a gleam in his eye that Yuuri recognized as his “idea look”. Normally, the appearance of that look was Yuuri's cue to run screaming in the opposite direction, but he was desperate. He waited patiently for the idea to fully take hold.

When it did, Phichit fully took hold of Yuuri's shoulders.

“Katsudon.”

It took a second for the word to process but when it did, Yuuri lit up.

“Phichit, you're a genius! Go call my mom, I'll clean up.”

“On it!” Phichit darted out of the kitchen, while Yuuri scrambled to get their previous failures out of the way.

The next hour was a mad dash to prepare the food, under the careful direction of Mrs. Katsuki via FaceTime. Miraculously, they had all the ingredients they needed on hand already. They finished at 6:57, and were still basking in the relief of narrowly avoiding a disaster when the doorbell rang.

Yuuri looked down at himself and nearly fainted. He was in old sweatpants and a shirt a full two sizes too big for him, and covered in the debris from their first three efforts, and he now had to have dinner with his crush.

But he forgot that he had Phichit the Shameless as his best friend. True to form, Phichit took one for the team, shoving Yuuri towards his bedroom and going to answer the door himself.

Once Phichit had gotten Chris and Viktor sitting at the table and he'd recounted his and Yuuri's culinary misadventures and they'd all and a good laugh about the fact that he looked like he'd barely escaped an assassination attempt by the failed ravioli batch, Viktor asked:

“So, where is Yuuri?” 

Phichit looked over his shoulder towards Yuuri's room, but there was no sign of him.

“Huh, I'm not sure. Maybe the ravioli really did get him.” He said, standing up from the table. “I'll go check on him.”

He found Yuuri in his bedroom, standing in an ankle deep pile of clothes that was composed of what seemed to be the entire contents of Yuuri's closet, and some of Phichit's too.

“Sometimes I wonder how you've managed to survive this long. Phichit said gently. Yuuri jumped, but then he laughed, so Phichit knew not all was lost. He joined Yuuri in the mound and gave him a reassuring hug, then reached into the pile and handed him a pair of jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. Crisis averted, Phichit went back to Chris and Viktor. They didn't ask for an explanation, so Phichit didn't give one.

Yuuri joined them shortly thereafter, bringing dinner in with him.

“This is called katsudon. It's pork and egg and noodles and such. It's my favourite, and I got the recipe from my mom but I really don't think it'll be as good as hers.” Yuuri explained once everyone had been served. 

Everyone paused for a second, like they were waiting for an invitation to eat. Viktor broke the tension by taking a forkful (Yuuri could forgive that) of food and eating it. His face lit up immediately.

“This is what heaven tastes like.” He declared, before proceeding with shovelling the katsudon into his mouth as fast as humanly possible.

After that, any residual tension evaporated and everyone dug in. Conversation only really started back up after everyone had finished eating bit once it did, it was easy and full of good natured teasing.

To this day, it's uncertain whose idea it was. But somehow, they ended up playing an extremely convoluted combination of Pictionary, Taboo, and Cards Against Humanity, with vodka thrown in, just for good measure. 

It was Yuuri and Viktor against Phichit and Chris, and team Katsuki-Nikiforov was losing badly. Their technique had devolved into them cuddling on the couch and giggling incessantly, something they'd doubtlessly both be embarrassed about in the morning, but for now they were enjoying themselves, so Chris and Phichit left them to it.

Viktor was currently playing with Yuuri's hair, both of them splayed out with their backs on the couch.

“You have nice eyes.” Yuuri said, reaching up and tapping Viktor's cheeks with his palms.

“So do you.” Viktor smiled, continuing his sad attempt to French braid Yuuri's hair.

“God, could they get any gayer?” Chris asked, his tone hovering somewhere between disgust and admiration.

Yuuri heard, and his gay, drunken brain took that as challenge.

“Yes!” He said in answer to Chris, twisting around so he was lying on top of Viktor and kissing him square on the mouth. They both found this hilarious. Chris and Phichit, on the other hand, saw the implications of what could happen if they let this continue, and through some kind of responsible best friend telepathy, simultaneously decided that it was time for everyone to go to bed. Alone.

Phichit stood up and not-so-subtly picked Yuuri up off of Viktor, ignoring his whines of complaint. 

“Okay Casanova, let's get you to bed.”

“Can Viktor come?”

“No.”

Phichit managed to get Yuuri to his room with minimal difficulty. Then, he left, instructing Yuuri to get some sleep. Yuuri decided that was an excellent idea and flopped face first onto his bed without changing, giggling “I kissed Viktor!” to himself before passing out.

***

Yuuri woke up the at seven am the next day with a splitting headache, smudgy glasses and a death wish. He stumbled blearily into the kitchen and found Phichit already there with a cup of coffee ready. Yuuri took it with a grateful grunt and sat down, trying to put together a cohesive mental picture of last night's events. He couldn't really remember much, and everything was fuzzy, except:

“I kissed Viktor.” He said suddenly, slamming his cup onto the table, the realization fully hitting him. “Oh god, I kissed Viktor.”

He turned to Phichit with terror in his eyes, hoping to find confusion and with it the reassurance that it had all been a bad dream. Instead, he found sympathy, all the confirmation he needed. Yuuri banged his head on the table. Phichit sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders.

“At least you didn't strip.”

 

***

Yuuri really hated how often his theory that the universe was out to get him was proven right.

He had eaten breakfast with Phichit, taken some Advil, and gone to the studio, despite Phichit saying that he'd cover for him. Yuuri really needed to throw himself into work today, needed something to distract him from the biggest mistake he'd made in his life.

But the mistake apparently couldn't just leave him alone. Celestino had forced him to take a break, and he'd ended up in the lobby of the studio. And who else was there? Viktor. Of course. 

Yuuri froze, considering his options. He could run back upstairs and hope Viktor hadn't seen him, he could fake a seizure or amnesia, or he could just pretend nothing had happened and everything was fine. He decided on the final option, because Viktor was waving at him, and since Viktor was being casual about it, Yuuri figured he should be too.

“You dance here?” Viktor asked once Yuuri had made his way over.

Yuuri shifted his weight awkwardly. “Yeah.” 

Neither said anything for a few seconds. “What are you doing here?”

It came out a little more rude than he intended, but he was stressed.

“I'm picking up my cousin.” Viktor answered, luckily not seeming to notice Yuuri's bluntness. “Yuri Plisetsky. Do you know him?”

Yuuri felt his blood run cold, fear setting in instantly.

“Yuri Plisetsky? The one every dancer here is terrified of? He's your cousin?”

Viktor laughed. “Yep! He's really not so bad, once you get past the “I hate everyone and everything” element.” He paused. “At least, that's what I've been told. I haven't gotten there yet.”

Suddenly, a loud, furious screech of “VIKTOR!” echoed from outside, and the door was kicked open by a short, blond teenager with murder in his eyes.

“Stop trying to get in Katsuki’s pants and let's GO!” He slammed the door behind him, leaving Yuuri shell shocked and more than a little terrified. Viktor was unphased.

“I guess that's my cue to go. I'll see you tonight?” 

Right. It was Saturday.

Yuuri scrambled for an excuse. “Uh, not this week, sorry. Extra practice. With Celestino. Sorry.” That was a complete lie, and not a good one, but he couldn't face a whole hour with Viktor today. Or probably ever again.

“Oh, okay.” Viktor looked crushed for a second, but he covered it up quickly. It was almost enough for Yuuri to change his mind. Almost. “Goodbye Yuuri.”

Yuuri watched Viktor go, unable to shake the feeling that he'd just made an even bigger mistake than last night.

***

It had been two weeks, and Yuuri had not been back to Viktor's class. He'd ignored Viktor's attempts to contact him until they'd stopped, and he'd bullshited excuses to Phichit as to why he wasn't going to classes anymore, but Yuuri knew it was only a matter of time before Phichit called him out.

Phichit finally confronted him about it on the third Friday, showing Yuuri walls of texts from Chris detailing how miserable Viktor was, and demanded an explanation, which Yuuri finally, finally gave.

Five minutes later, and Phichit was more exasperated than he'd ever been in his life.

He sighed profoundly and hit his head on the table. He stayed there for a second, then sat up and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, let me see if I've got this right. You saw Viktor at the studio two Saturdays ago.”

“Yes.”

“He wasn't upset.”

“Right.”

“You had a nice conversation.”

“Yes.”

“So you decided that you were going to avoid him forever.”

“That's... yeah, basically.”

Phichit hit his head on the table again. 

“Yuuri, my dude, my friend, my platonic soulmate… I say this with love, but you are a fucking idiot.”

“Thanks Phichit.”

Phichit ignored the snarkiness and forged onward.

“You can still fix this, but you've got to act fast. Think grand romantic gestures, something Viktor would like.”

Yuuri nodded, wracking his brain for what he could do to make up for being an ass for the better part of three weeks.

After a few minutes of Phichit staring expectantly at him, Yuuri slammed his hands down on the table and stood up.

“I've got it.”

***

It took a good deal of coordinating and some tech support from Phichit, but an hour before the regular Saturday class time, everything was ready.

Yuuri was nervous, but he was always nervous. He was pacing the room, reflexively checking the time every few seconds. Chris had taken Viktor's current class, and Viktor's usual studio was completely decked out in fairy lights and flowers, (something his bank account would feel for a while) with a distressed Yuuri as the centerpiece. He had managed through a series of emails to Maiko, to cancel today's class without alerting Viktor. Now, it was only a matter of waiting.

Ten minutes before the usual class time, the door to the studio opened. Yuuri stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the room, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

Viktor stepped in and looked around in confusion. 

“Wha-”

He noticed Yuuri, and stepped inside, crossing his arms. He looked displeased but intrigued, which was better than screaming, so Yuuri figured he was doing okay.

“Hi.”

“So, what is all of this?” Viktor asked, not unkindly, gesturing at the decked out room.

“An apology?” Yuuri said uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot.

Viktor didn't say anything, raising an eyebrow to indicate that Yuuri should continue, which he did.

“I-I'd like to start by apologizing. Because I was kind of an idiot and I realize that now, and you really didn't deserve to be thrown into my anxiety fest without explanation.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I just… I got really stuck in my head overthinking everything, and I thought it would be better if I just didn't talk to you, but instead it just upset you and I definitely didn't want to do that so I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. And I know that isn't an excuse, but I really am sorry  
And I totally get it if you never want to see me again and- Oh god are you crying?!”

Viktor had put his face in his hands and his shoulders were shaking, but when he looked up, he was laughing. 

“God, Yuuri.” He said, shaking his head.

“What?” Yuuri asked, worried that he'd somehow made the situation worse.

Viktor sighed and shook his head. “You're infuriating.”

“I'm sor-”

“Let me finish.” Viktor interrupted. “You're infuriating, because I try to be mad at you and then you go and do something like this,” he gestured at the decor, “and all I can think about his how adorable you are. It's very frustrating.” His tone was serious, but he looked like he was trying not to laugh.

Yuuri felt his face go hot. “Oh.” 

Viktor walked across the room and looped his hands around Yuuri's waist, leaning in so they were nose to nose, and Yuuri tried very hard to keep his breathing steady.

“So…” Viktor said slowly, “if I were to kiss you right now, do you promise not to ignore me again?” 

Yuuri nodded, a tad bit too enthusiastically. Viktor smiled.

“Good.”

In Yuuri's humble opinion, it was the best first (second?) kiss ever.

**Author's Note:**

> You made it! Congratulations! Leave a comment if you want, corrections, edits, compliments, hate, constructive criticism, whatever you want, it's all appreciated! And if you really feel the need for more of me, my tumblr is @wrunic ! Thank you again!


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